


KLHiPs

by Sophie_Of_Tarth



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Modern AU, Modern Westeros
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-23
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-03-31 18:22:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3988105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sophie_Of_Tarth/pseuds/Sophie_Of_Tarth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>‘And they could do with you at Kings Landing,’</em> Captain Stark had told her, <em>‘I’ve already had enquiries. They need someone who looks like they need a new position fast to help with some issue with witness tampering. Do yourself a favour, disappear to the KLPD for a few months and then come back to the Stormlands when all the nonsense concerning Hunt and Connington will be cleared up once and for all.’</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In the beginning...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ikkiM](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ikkiM/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne hadn’t asked to be transferred to Kings Landing PD. It had been 'suggested' to her as an important opportunity to further her career in the police force and as a way of avoiding the aftermath of her participation in an internal sting operation that had exposed several of her colleagues as running a illegal betting syndicate. Needless to say, Brienne Tarth was not currently the most popular of individuals within the close knit Stormlands PD.

“Would you like to get out of the car, Madam?”

Brienne stared straight ahead for a count of ten before slowly turning to look at the police officer as he stood patiently waiting for her to exit the vehicle.

He stared back, his expression stern, his jaw slightly clenched.

Or at least her own reflection did. From his sunglasses.

 _I look bloody angry,_ she thought to herself _, as well as hot, sweaty and  especially plain  today._

And if she was only looking angry, then that was a definite improvement on the fury she'd felt as she left the Stormlands Police Department.

Brienne hadn’t asked to be transferred to Kings Landing PD. It had been 'suggested' to her as an important opportunity to further her career in the police force and as a way of avoiding the aftermath of her participation in an internal sting operation that had exposed several of her colleagues as running a illegal betting syndicate. Needless to say, Brienne Tarth was not currently the most popular of individuals within the close knit Stormlands PD.

 _‘And they could do with you at Kings Landing,’_ Captain Stark had told her, _‘I’ve already had enquiries. They need someone who looks like they need a new position fast to help with some issue with witness tampering. Do yourself a favour, disappear to the KLPD for a few months and then come back to the Stormlands when all the nonsense concerning Hunt and Connington will be cleared up once and for all.’_

 _Sure,_ thought Brienne, _I look forward to returning to my desk in the Stormlands PD, only to be found a few hours later with a knife sticking out of my back._

What a mess.

“Madam?”

The granite jawed police officer had not budged an inch, and was still waiting for her to get out of her car. Then, as Brienne watched, he pulled the reflective sunglasses from his face, and folded the arms neatly down before slipping them into his vest pocket. The expression on his face said it all.

Now you are in real trouble.

Brienne squinted a look upwards in the bright sunshine, following the tanned line of his neck, up to the strong jaw, across high cheekbones, only to then encounter the most vibrant green gaze she had ever looked into in her life.

 _Ye gods, the man was drop dead gorgeous,_ she realised as a shock of awareness hit her squarely between the solar plexus and the upper thighs.

It was as unwelcome a sensation, as it was unfamiliar. 

“You need to get out of the car,” It was not a request any more. It was an instruction.

With a suitable show of reluctance, Brienne unclipped her seatbelt and turned to open her car door. On a long sigh and a roll of her eyes, she pulled herself to her feet, quite prepared to tower over the beautiful man standing next to her precious convertible. But as she turned to face him, shutting the car door behind her, instead of looking down at him, she was instead staring almost directly into his stunning eyes.

_May the seven be merciful and take me now._

The shock of awareness dulled to a distracting throb.

Brienne swallowed, desperate to keep an unruffled expression on her face as long as possible, “Officer,” she acknowledged coolly, “care to explain exactly why you have stopped me?”

As the man before her tilted his head ever so slightly back to look at her properly, Brienne was almost convinced she heard him breathe the words, “fuck me,” under his breath as he studied what felt like every inch of her face, his expression giving nothing away.

 _Eyes like green glass, and if they don’t cut you, his razor sharp cheekbones  will,_ she thought to herself.

Somewhere behind her a squad car beeped its horn, the officer at the wheel was grinning like a loon, giving Brienne’s attendant officer the thumbs up sign and a leer.

"Caught yourself a big one there," came the shout.

 _Pratt,_ Brienne stared back at him with the expression she saved for cockroaches and idiots as the officer by her side studiously avoided looking anywhere near his inappropriate colleague as the man carried on past in the car.

 Instead, her attending officer juggled his notebook awkwardly between his left and right hands.

“According to our records you have no insurance to drive this vehicle,” he informed her.

 Brienne allowed yet another sigh to escape through pursed lips.

“Then your records are wrong,”  she insisted through gritted teeth, “I renewed the insurance on my car at the beginning of the month.”

The smallest smile come grimace tightened his lean cheeks as he shook his head.

“No, you did not. Our records say your insurance lapsed on the first of this month.”

“That is impossible,” Brienne straightened her back and found she had about an inch advantage in height after all, “ I renewed the insurance.”

“If you had, the software on the number plate recognition system would not have picked you up. Would you like to come with me to the car and we will check your details.” He told her.

Brienne licked her lips and stared down at her beautiful silver car. Her four wheeled pride and joy had been a gift from her father, and the agreement had always been that she was responsible for the insurance.

Selwyn Tarth would not be happy if he found out she had reneged on their agreement.

“I renewed the insurance,” she insisted.

“Did you actually renew the insurance yourself, or did you read the default renewal letter and leave it to renew itself?” he asked her.

The renewal letter, Brienne’s heart sank, of course she had.

With all the problems with Connington and Hunt, and with Catelyn Stark so keen to move her out of area, her car insurance had been very low on her list of priorities. So,  she had simply left her insurance details to default to another year with the same company.

"This is probably better discussed somewhere less busy," he told her, indicating that she should follow him to the car behind.

“I…,” Brienne swallowed as she trailed after him to the unmarked police car, the blue lights still flashing from where he had signalled her to pull over.

Other motorists were slowing down to look as they passed her car.

 _Absolutely mortifying,_ was all she could think as she climbed into the cool recesses of his car, sinking down into the low slung seats of the police vehicle, _and what if it's an act of petty revenge from some of my less than impressed colleagues at the Stormlands PD?_

_Just because you're not paranoid, doesn't mean they aren't out to get you._

“So let me confirm your details, Ms Tarth…” he looked at the screen on the dashboard where her entire life seemed to appear in front of their eyes in quick succession on a series of screens. Her name, her address in the Stormlands, her lapsed insurance details, almost everything.

“You are a quite long way from home,” he observed softly as he dialled a number on his mobile phone.

“New job,” she mumbled self consciously, deliberately slowing her breathing right down so she didn’t start to hyperventilate right in front of him. His proximity alone seemed to be enough to suck the oxygen right out of the car they were sat in and in the confined space she was aware of being very much in his territory.

Once settled behind the steering wheel of the car, he pulled the cap from his head and ran his fingers through the shock of blond hair that was subsequently revealed as he spoke on the phone to what sounded like someone on a desk somewhere.

The female voice on the other end of the call clearly knew who he was and spent five minutes of the call blatantly flirting in Brienne’s opinion. She had to bite her tongue to prevent herself butting into their conversation and reminding them both it was hardly appropriate in front of someone who was ostensibly a member of the public.

 _He’d just think it was sour grapes,_ she thought to herself, _the grumpy anger of an ugly woman who has fallen foul of the law._

“What happens, if I… er didn’t manage to successfully renew my insurance?” She asked.

“Three hundred dragon fine, six points on your licence and instant confiscation of your vehicle,” he informed her, “but Pia is just going to ring your insurance company to check.”

 _Thanks Pia,_ Brienne  thought rather ungratefully.

"She'll ring back," he told her helpfully as they both sat in the car staring at the back of her car. 

And so they waited, and they waited, and Brienne started to feel quite sick.

 _I'm going to have to ring Margaery, tell her I'm going to be unable to meet her for that coffee, if at all,_  she fretted to herself.

Brienne stole a furtive glance at her companion's name badge on his black stab vest.

 _Police Sergeant Lannister KLPD,_ Brienne read out of the corner of her eye.

"This doesn't look good," Lannister told her as he wrote with painful care in his notebook with his left hand, "it's normally resolved pretty quickly if it is simply a case of a mix-up between your letter being sent and the insurance company."

"Oh," Brienne replied, trying not to stare too much at the beautiful being currently still making notes in a surprisingly childish hand, only now he was filling out some kind of form.

"Do you need to call anyone?" He asked her, pausing for a moment.

"No," she looked back out of the window at her car before glancing back into the mesmerizing gaze of the man sat next to her, "not yet."

As if on cue the mobile phone rang and he picked it up, fumbling it slightly as he raised it to his ear.

"Hi Pia... no, no we're still here," he listened for several moments and then smiled across at Brienne.

 _Ye gods!_ Never had she felt as if she was about to pass out from the expression on someone's face before.

"Your insurance looks all to be in order, Ms Tarth," he informed her.

"Really? Really?" Brienne felt as if she was about to lose her breakfast all over Officer Lannister and the interior of the austere KLPD  car, "Can I go now?"

"Well," Officer Lannister replaced the cap on his head, "first we need to have a little chat about what you are going to do about your left stop light being out..."

 

                                                                                         *               *               *                *

 

"Why didn't you tell him you were a cop?" Margaery listened wide eyed as Brienne started on her second iced coffee, just so pleased to have finally reached her destination on time, and for Margaery Tyrell to still be sitting at their table patiently waiting for her.

"Please," She rolled her eyes and took another sip of her drink, "exactly how bad is it going to look with me coming in from the SPD like I've done something wrong, and then to have the fact that I've been pulled over for a misdemeanor before I've even got as far as my first day at the office...," Brienne put her head in one of her hands and groaned, "awful, it would look awful."

"I see," Margaery said, but Brienne wasn't convinced she did. Margaery wouldn't understand that the professional expectation was that Brienne should have checked both her insurance and the fact her car was roadworthy before she left the Stormlands, "So what did he write you up for?"

"A warning for a broken stop light. I've got to take my documents along to a police station within a week to be checked," Brienne pushed the yellow form she had been given across the table to Margaery, who picked it up and glanced at it before flicking it over and reading the back.

"You said this guy was hot?"

"Scorching," Brienne mumbled into her coffee, quietly reflecting on the fact she was unlikely to have an encounter with a man quite as hot as that ever again.

"Well my dear friend, it seems like it's your lucky day." Margaery pushed the form back across the table, one beautifully manicured finger pointing to a childish scrawl across the bottom of the yellow piece of paper that said simply...

 **CALL ME** followed by a mobile number and the name **JAIME.**

 

 

 


	2. And then...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please, do sit down,” Jaime felt an involuntary smile twist at his mouth as she immediately coloured up and looked away, her gaze skittering across the floor away from his own.  
> “Officer Lannister,” she greeted him stiffly.  
> “Officer Tarth,” he acknowledged.

**unknown** :Dear Officer Lannister, I received your note. You do realise it is not appropriate to use Form IMN1 to communicate with the general public

 **unknown:**  Kind Regards Brienne Tarth

              **Save 'unknown' number as 'SPDmolegirl'**

 **me** : Apologies. No other way to do it. Call me.

 **SPDmolegirl:** No

 **me** : Why not?

 **SPDmolegirl:** It is not appropriate to use Form IMN1 to obtain phone numbers from members of the public.

              **me:** You think this is a pick up?

 **SPDmolegirl:** No

               **me:**  You do

 **SPDmolegirl:**  No I don't

              **me:** What do you think it is then?

 **SPDmolegirl** : Harassment

              **me:** Just call me

 **SPDmolegirl:** Why?

              **me:** Why do you think?

 **SPDmolegirl:** Why me?

              **me:** Because we need to talk...Meet me at Sam’s on Baelor Square 11.30am.

 **SPDmolegirl:** Why do I need to talk to you?

 **me:**  Because you do

 **SPDmolegirl:**  This is highly irregular

 **me:** Just be there! BE THERE!

**Save **'SPDmolegirl'**  as 'BigBlondePainInTheAss'**

 

 

Jaime sat at his table in the corner of one of his favourite haunts in Kings Landing, drawing clumsy stick men on the side of his glass of iced water with the index finger of his left hand, re-reading the conversation on his phone with a sinking stomach as he compared the clock figures on the phone with the hands of his watch for the hundredth time. He then scanned the bright sun lit square in front of Baelor’s Sept with keen eyes, impatiently waiting for Brienne Tarth to show up.

_Hoping that Brienne Tarth would show up._

Brienne Tarth, his new 'assistant'.

Jaime had been working on the KLPD witness tampering problem for some months now, having ostensibly transferred from the Westerlands where he had had a falling out with a superior officer. In reality his brother, a senior figure in the crown prosecution service, had asked him if he would be prepared to consider taking the matter on. Jaime had been approached after a particularly high profile law suit, featuring a notorious public figure, had been thrown out of court. The case against the gentleman in question had collapsed after several witnesses had simply ‘changed their minds’ about the evidence they had given. Some simply claiming that their memory of events was not quite as clear as it had been, others apparently having been subjected to some duress. Jaime felt he had made good progress with his investigation. The recently sustained damage to his right hand had given him a perfectly reasonable reason to move both force and for him to return to the more anonymous role of uniformed officer within the KL Highroad Patrol. His demotion allowed him attend relevant incidents around the Kings Landing PD with as much anonymity as he could ever have wanted. Occasionally his name was a help, more often a hindrance, The fracas long ago with Police Chief Aerys Targaryen had cast a long enough shadow over his whole career to make any demotion believable to any number of people.

As with all things, there were a lot of people with some seriously long memories in Westerosi law enforcement.

“Another drink ser?” The pretty waitress glanced over him so quickly he could have missed it. Her subtle appraisal nothing new to Jaime Lannister as she swept away two of his glasses, leaving the iced water behind.

It was the kind of attention he was more than accustomed to attracting from members of the opposite sex, and occasionally from his own.  
Jaime shook his head, “has anyone asked at the bar for me?” he asked her.  
The girl shook her head, “What do they look like? I can ask the bar staff to watch out for them for you if you like.”  
“Tall, taller than me maybe, very blonde, blue eyes,” as he watched the waitress look him over once again, her gaze almost calculating until he added, “a very tall woman, there is no mistaking her.”  
The waitress nodded briefly, put her notepad in her pocket and went to ask at the bar.

Jaime went back to drawing shapes in the condensation on the glass of his iced water and wondering what on earth he had done to have Brienne Tarth inflicted on him.  
It was a decision that seemed to come out of nowhere, the ‘powers that be’ deciding that he needed ‘support’ to facilitate his investigation into the witness issue that clearly had members of the KLPD implicated in it. The solution had been to send him this huge, white elephant of a woman called Brienne Tarth, to no doubt lumber around his investigation and probably totally cock it up. A girl so keen, so green and inexperienced, that Catelyn Stark had managed to convince her to act as some kind of stool-pigeon in a departmental coup in the Stormlands PD.  
_There really is nothing quite like reading a person’s personnel file from cover to cover to get an idea of what they are really like,_ he thought, annoyed.

It was then he saw a tall figure striding up and down outside the bar, a bit like some wild creature engaged in an odd mating ritual.

“Fuck’s sake,” Jaime looked up as he saw a flash of white out of the corner of his eye.

_And now she’s my problem._

Brienne stood awkwardly outside the door to Sam’s Bar, clearly unsure as to whether she should enter the establishment he had specified, or go home. The large white man’s shirt, with its open collar, reflected the sun’s glare, making it hard to miss her wandering up and down with a confused look on her face, quite obviously looking for someone.  
“Er…” Jaime snagged the attention of yet another passing waitress, “is there any chance you could stick your head out of the door and tell my friend I’m over here?” He nodded in the direction of Brienne still vacillating by the door, and then smiled his most charming smile.  
The waitress fled in the direction of his new partner.  
Within minutes Brienne had stamped into the bar, and on catching sight of him had walked over and sat herself down in a chair immediately opposite him, almost totally blocking his view of the other patrons.  
“Please, _do_ sit down,” Jaime felt an involuntary smile twist at his mouth as she immediately coloured up and looked away, her gaze skittering across the floor away from his own.  
“Officer _Lannister_ ,” she greeted him stiffly.  
“Officer _Tarth_ ,” he acknowledged.

There followed a long and rather awkward pause.

“So you knew,” Brienne looked at him and then down at the table, before lifting her oversized bag from her shoulder and dumping it on the floor at her feet, “all along, you knew.”

“Of course,” he replied softly.

“Even when you pulled my car over?” Brienne asked him.

“I couldn’t quite believe it when you came up on the dash as having no car insurance, but yes I knew all along.”

She said nothing in response to that. It would have been so easy for him to have taken advantage of her misdemeanor if he had been one of the bad guys in all of this, but he had not. He had played it by the book.

Brienne remained silent, simply colouring up again before flashing him  a reproachful look from the most beautiful blue eyes Jaime had ever seen.

An incongruous feature within an otherwise unprepossessing face, he thought to himself, although he had not realised quite how impressive her size and stature was. He was a tall man, women rarely came up as far as his shoulder, to have a woman stare him straight in the eye was… _interesting_.

“You never said anything about being a cop,” she told him.

“Neither did you,” Jaime pointed out to her.

“So, we'll be working together then? I was told somebody would make contact.”

“Yes indeed, you will be working for me.” Jaime replied.

“I think that’s what I said,” Brienne growled back at him.

“Of course you did,” Jaime twinkled back at her, all fake sweetness and light until he caught sight of Sam’s latest customer as he walked into the bar.

Brienne instantly registered his changed demeanor,“What?”

She then went to follow the line of his gaze but Jaime caught her chin in an iron grip before she had a chance to turn her head, holding her face stationary as he moved his mouth a tad closer to her left ear.

"Don't move," he told her.

Inspector Roose Bolton had just wandered into the bar with a morning paper under one arm, looking for the life of him if he was out for a quiet stroll.

Jaime knew the man better than that.

 _What is the dirtiest policeman in all of the KLPD doing out of his office at this time in the morning?_ Jaime wondered to himself.

“Come and sit next to me a moment,” Jaime pulled her across to sit on the bench seat facing the rest of the bar next to him, “don't look now but there are two men who are standing just by the door?”

Blue eyes met his as Brienne gave an almost imperceptible nod of her head.

“I’ve been aware of them since I got here from the Westerlands. One in particular I think might be the key to our problems at the KLPD, and he looks like he might be meeting someone here today. I don’t particularly want him to see us but if we leave now we will almost definitely catch his eye… so, do you think you can follow my lead?”

Brienne gave another of the tiniest of nods, her eyes instantly tracking their way across the room to where Bolton sat, until Jaime leant so far forward he was almost within touching distance of her face with his lips.

"What are you doing?" she asked him, momentarily distracted, her eyes flicking back to his face as she frowned.

"Pretending I'm kissing you. Hiding my face," he told her, "and yours. Keep your eye on Bolton, the man nearest the door and don't look so cross. What is he doing?"

“Why would we be doing that here anyway?” Brienne hissed against his lips when he paused for the merest moment, "he's looking at us, and I'm not surprised."

Jaime sighed, looking deep into her blue gaze for any hint of her being deliberately difficult.

The look she returned him was wide and without guile, if a little annoyed.

“ It seems an eminently sensible way for two people to spend their lunchtime, maybe we're cheating on our partners, maybe…,” he explained, “we might even leave presently for an afternoon of hot, unbridled passion.”

For a wild moment all he could imagine was being held, completely naked, in the grip of her incredibly long legs.

“I couldn't do that,” she said, her too large slightly chapped lips compressing into a grim line, her eyes still watching him, "I couldn't cheat on my partner."

"Why, would your partner mind us pretending?" Jaime was a loss to understand quite why her words annoyed him as much as they did.

"I haven't actually got a partner," Brienne told him gruffly in a rough whisper, "but I still couldn't cheat. It's the principle of the thing." 

_For the love of the seven. is this woman for real?_

Jaime closed his eyes momentarily in exasperation, before moving in close to her again. She smelt of mint gum and sunshine. He slipped a hand behind her head and pulled her even closer, breathing in the scent of clean ironed linen and freshly washed hair. Turning her into his side, he put his hand chastely on her leg, resisting the urge to slide it onto the inside of one long thigh, silently marvelling at how her limbs seemed to go on forever as he continued to _not_ kiss a woman so wholesome that in that instant, she appeared almost edible.

 "He's coming over," Brienne breathed imperceptibly against his lips.

“Well, well,” came a soft voice from behind them, “Jaime Lannister and a rather handsome boyfriend…”

Brienne broke away from Jaime's almost embrace with a start, suddenly she was all that was awkward embarrassment and self-consciousness.

“Oh, my apologies,” Roose Bolton studied Brienne closely as he sat quite deliberately in her recently vacated chair, “not a boyfriend...a lady friend.”

“Inspector Bolton,” Jaime lounged back in the chair, leaving his hand heavy on Brienne’s thigh in an effort to stop her making an excuse to walk off and leave him.

“Lannister,” Bolton regarded him steadily, his pale grey eyes giving nothing away, “you’ve moved jobs, been demoted and reclassified so much I hardly know what to call you anymore. What I have heard is that you’ve now finally joined us at the KLPD.”

Jaime inclined his head slightly in acknowledgement to Bolton’s words, “I like it here. It seems a very friendly place to work. People seem more than happy to give you a fresh start,” Jaime told him, glancing quickly at Brienne who was sitting so rigidly he was partly convinced someone had replaced the woman with a wooden statue.

“It’s certainly reassuring to see you so… settled.” Bolton acknowledged, his pale eyes transferring themselves to Brienne who stared right back at him, her chin slightly raised as she did so. “And I see you are with Brienne Tarth. Selwyn Tarth’s daughter.”

Roose Bolton nodded slightly at Brienne, and she reciprocated with a brief nod of her own.

“And how is Judge Tarth?” He asked her softly.

“My father is quite well,” Brienne told him briefly in her most imposing manner, every inch the Judge’s daughter, her entire attitude clearly broadcasting the message that she was not there to answer questions. Jaime could tell from her rigid posture how unwelcome the questions were.

 _None of us want to talk about ourselves,_ Jaime thought.

Bolton, however, was not in the mood to take the hint where Brienne was concerned.

“And how did your father feel about you leaving the Stormlands Police Department,” Bolton asked her softly, “and under such a cloud?”

Jaime squeezed her leg, urging caution.

“ He wasn’t happy about me having to relocate temporarily to Kings Landing, but he could see that I had to make the move,” Brienne replied blandly, putting her hand on Jaime’s thigh and pinching the soft muscle on the inside of his leg. Jaime’s slight jerk backwards caught Bolton’s attention, and in response the inspector gave them both the thinnest of smiles.

“Well… I wish you both an enjoyable lunch and hope you enjoy the rest of the day.” he told them, a sinister edge to his voice.

Jaime was dimly aware of nodding his head and making some garbled response, all too aware of the large hand still resting on his upper thigh.

As Bolton vacated the chair and walked back towards the bar, Jaime put his mouth to her ear, “don’t move. Just watch him leave and tell me what he does.”

Brienne rather surprisingly obliged him, her breath tickling the skin of his cheek as she watched Bolton progress across the room.

“Has he gone yet?” he asked her.

“Not yet,” Brienne told him, “Move your head down a bit. He’s stopped to talk to someone.”

Jaime dropped his head slightly to rest his nose between the soft skin between her jaw and earlobe.

“What are you doing?” she hissed into his ear.

“What you told me to do.” Jaime replied softly against her skin, “Has he stopped talking yet?”

“Not yet,” Brienne bit out.

Jaime nuzzled the patch of skin next to his nose, her hiss of outrage almost as compelling as the taste and texture of her skin however her subsequent pincher like grip on the nerve endings just above his knee had him rearing back so hard he banged his head on the cushioned back of the seat with a loud thud.

“So then Officer Lannister,” Brienne sat herself a little further back in her seat and crossed her legs, the epitome of professionalism as Jaime rubbed the back of his head and stared at her reproachfully, “care to bring me up to speed on the progress of your investigation so far?….”

 

 


	3. When it all kicked off...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Officers Jaime and Brienne have had some success...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It just got bigger and bigger.... so I've split it up a bit...

_To:[JudgeSelwynTarth@tarthonline.co](mailto:JudgeSelwynTarth@tarthonline.com).we_

_From:[OfficerBrienneTarth@tarthonline.co.we](mailto:OfficerBrienneTarth@tarthonline.co.we)_

_Subject: Re: Are you not talking to me any more?_

_Hi Dad,_

_Of course I’m still talking to you! Its just things have been super busy here and some days its as much as I can do to grab a sandwich, much less actually text or email a message!_

_The work matter I told you about on the phone has started coming to a head, thanks mainly to J who just doesn’t know when to back off. I’ll tell you more when I speak to you properly but the way things are going I could be seeing you in person really soon I think. That being the case if you could keep your eyes open for a reasonable flat rental when you are next around the Bronzegate area I could start thinking about moving back. You were right about the move to KL helping me to forget about the Renly stuff, and hopefully the betting syndicate issues will have died down too by now._

_Captain Stark says she’ll arrange something if not._

_She says she owes me. She owes us both. Me and J, but I’ll tell you all when I see you._

_Speak to you soon,_

_Brienne_

 

                                                                                                          *               *               *                *

 

Brienne marched up and down beside the ambulance parked awkwardly at the side of the road. She alternated wringing her hands, with checking her phone, before stopping self-consciously to stare down anyone who dared look in her direction for too long.

“Tarth…,” a voice called out from across the street.

“Not now,” Brienne mumbled under her breath, scowling in the general direction of the shout. Unable to identify who it could be who wanted her, the gloomy day darkened even further by smoke billowing black from the nearby warehouse, it’s signage, “Winterfell Holdings”, blistered and discoloured by the flames licking at the edges of the grey and white boarding. Brienne turned back to stare at the closed ambulance door.

_Jaime._

The door opened.

Brienne was there in two steps, in the face of the paramedic before he had the door open far enough to peer out, but even then it was clear that Brienne was the one he was seeking.

"Officer Tarth?"

“Is he…?”

“He’s coming round,” the paramedic was reassuring, waiting for her to step back so that he could throw the ambulance door open wide, “that was some crack to the skull. He’s got a lump the size of a gull’s egg on his head.”

Brienne swallowed, feeling suddenly quite sick, “I told him to stay where he was but he ran after Bolton anyway.”

“He’s lucky he got out of there,” the man nodded in the direction of the still burning warehouse, “he trod on something that went through his shoe as well by the way.”

“Great… that’s just great,” she mumbled weakly, not caring if her reply sounded odd.

“Give him five minutes,” the paramedic grinned suddenly, “these heroes don’t like to appear too human you know.”

It was all she could do to not snort like an auroch at his words.

“How is he?” Captain Stark came to a stop next to her, her attention ostensibly on the warehouse inferno in front of them.

“They say okay,” Brienne replied, stiff lipped, resentful, aware of a flare of the anger that had been slowly burning in her since she discovered how Captain Stark had manipulated both Jaime and herself to get them into a position to bring Detective Inspector Bolton down.

 _Ruthless,_ thought Brienne as she turned to regard the woman who had been Bolton’s nemesis. When Bolton had killed her son, Catelyn Stark’s vengeance had developed a long reach. It had plucked herself from the Stormlands, it had pulled Jaime from the Westerlands and almost got him killed. “Is that the end of it?” she asked Captain Stark.

“It is for now,” Catelyn Stark looked into the smoke spiralling into the air, a grim smile on her lips, “I think we have enough to bring a case against Bolton and his accomplices. Thanks to Lannister… and yourself, Brienne. Enough to put them away for a decent amount of time."

There was a lot Brienne could have said, _Why not be honest from the first? Why the cloak and dagger secrecy when we would have been on your side?_ But she said nothing. Instead she simply nodded curtly, her lips twisted into the parody of a smile that seemed acceptable in this situation.

“It's been something of a surprise that you seem to have got on so well with Jaime Lannister. An unexpected bonus and one that's been noticed by a few people. Lannister is quite an asset to have when he's fully on board with an investigation and I can only thank you for ensuring that he followed through on this one Brienne,” Catelyn Stark went on, her narrowed gaze on Brienne’s face as she spoke, “ He's not the easiest of men to work with, rather too confrontational for most people's taste. I have heard him described as a beast of a man in a beautiful shell... attractive, if you like fair haired men with green eyes… quite charming when he can be bothered to engage. There are no other men quite like Jaime Lannister."

_What is she getting at now?_

“I… hadn’t noticed.” Brienne muttered, aware that it was far from the truth.

Captain Stark snorted, “Of course you have. Who wouldn’t? But I'll tell you this Brienne Tarth... don’t ever forget who he is. He doesn’t. He’s a Lannister, a lion of Casterly Rock, and he’s still trouble even if he did manage to bring this case to a successful conclusion. If he has even half as much sense as his brother Tyrion Lannister, I’ve yet to see it.”

 _Have you looked any deeper than the surface with Jaime? Has anyone really looked? Does anyone?_ Brienne wondered to herself.

“Officer Tarth?”

Her gaze instantly flicked back to the ambulance, eyes widening as the paramedic beckoned to her.

“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately, her heart rate picking up slightly as she sensed concern in the paramedic's voice.

“Nothing, just that you can talk to him now, but he’s fretting about any potential medication. If you could have a word, reassure him, it would help us.”

_Jaime Lannister and fret were two things one rarely expected to hear in one sentence._

Brienne flung back the door to the ambulance to reveal a sheepish looking Jaime, a cold compress on his head, his blonde hair streaked with black and sticking out at odd angles from his head, his green eyes once again sharp and focused.

“Wench,” he mumbled at her, a lop-sided smile creeping onto his face.

“You bloody idiot.. I told you to stay where you were,” Brienne could feel the angry helpless sensation welling up inside her once more as if she was reliving the whole of Roose Bolton’s last stand for one last time.

“I did stay… but then I saw Bolton make a break for it out of the back of the building as the swat team went in the front,” Jaime’s snort of disgust made him wince, one sooty hand coming up to swipe his face leaving a trail of black over the bridge of his nose and one cheek, “I couldn’t just stand there and do nothing.”

Brienne swallowed, hard. Even sitting huddled in a bright orange blanket, so orange it made his skin seem sallow, hair lank and grey from a combination of smoke and dirty water, Jaime Lannister still looked good enough to eat.

He was enough to take any woman’s breath away.

 _Even mine,_ Brienne looked hard at the floor and blinked, trying to conjure up other men of her acquaintance who had been exceptionally handsome. _Renly had been gorgeous of course, and Loras was one of the prettiest creatures I have ever known, male or female._

_But Jaime….._

Brienne straightened awkwardly and took a step back, “You should have stayed where you were… your hand…”

“Fuck my hand, Brienne! It wasn’t like I had to fire a gun or operate delicate machinery. I just had to run after Roose Bolton and catch him.” Jaime gave his best shit-eating grin, teeth white in his grimy face, “And one thing I can do is run. Fast. Faster than you, even with my hand.”

Brienne glared at him, painfully aware that as a tall woman, running, sprinting really fast, was not her greatest asset.

 _Built for endurance rather than speed,_ she acknowledged, _but he doesn't have to be quite so gleeful when he reminds me of it._

The attending paramedic tutted and checked the dressing on Jaime’s foot.

“You’ll need a tetanus jab when you get to the hospital and someone to keep an eye on you overnight,” he told Jaime sternly as he glanced briefly at Brienne, looking for her nod of agreement that someone would be available to do that for him. “And what were you saying about antibiotics?”

“Allergic to some,” Jaime winced and stretched out his shoulders, “an unfortunate legacy of treating me with them in such vast quantities when my hand got damaged, apparently.”

Brienne looked at the scarring on his right hand and said nothing, making a mental note to check every prescription before they left the hospital.

“Did they arrest Bolton?”

Brienne nodded briefly, concerned that he didn’t clearly remember holding Roose Bolton in a headlock until backup arrived. _Maybe he had hit his head harder than any of them had realised in the fall._

“And the moral of the story is don’t cross Catelyn Stark, eh?” Jaime winced slightly as he attempted to put some weight on his damaged foot, “As soon as Roose Bolton threatened the rest of her family, she moved to take him down… and she did it all from the Stormlands.”

“He had her son killed,” Brienne still felt the need to defend Catelyn, but the speedily orchestrated move from Stormlands PD to Kings Landing, all because she had wanted Brienne and Jaime to work together on bringing Roose Bolton to justice, still left a nasty taste in Brienne’s mouth. “She could have told us the truth, Jaime, she could have trusted us.”

“She never would have trusted me with the truth Brienne,” Jaime raised a sooty eyebrow at her, “ never in a thousand years. You know what they say, Kingslayer… man without honour.”

“The man who wrestled her son’s killer to the ground in a burning building with a six inch nail sticking out of his foot,” Brienne sniffed her disdain.

“Oh, well she might trust me next time,” Jaime’s icy smile clearly indicated that in his world, that time would never come.

“Maybe,” Brienne acknowledged, frowning as Jaime hissed at the pain in his foot as he attempted to stand.

“Shit that hurts!” he glared reproachfully at the medics, his gold and silver hair streaked with black fell over his handsome features making him look like an indignant cartoon lion with a wounded paw.

“You still need to go to the hospital Ser,” the paramedic was staring at Jaime’s foot doubtfully, Brienne grimacing as Jaime suddenly put his hand on her shoulder and gripped it white knuckle tight in order to stay upright, “you’ll need an x-ray and a tetanus shot before you are fit to return home.”

“Can she come with me to the hospital?”

All eyes turned to regard Brienne, who tried to stand a little straighter but failed due to Jaime using her as his main support.

“Well…”

Brienne eyed the gathering storm on Jaime’s face with a doubtful look.

“I can drive myself,” she assured them quickly.

“Well in that case, you can take me too,” Jaime hopped on his one foot, the grip on her shoulder enough to make Brienne sag slightly to one side, “I don’t need to put these gentlemen out.”

 _Not when he can inconvenience me instead,_ Brienne thought to herself.

“He’s going to need someone to stay with him, the injury to his head…”

“Is it that bad?” Her concern made her voice crack slightly.

“I banged my head a bit that's all,” Jaime scowled at the paramedic before looking to catch Brienne's eye, “when I fell over. I’m fine.”

“Concussion is a serious matter,” the man frowned dourly at Jaime, who turned to stare right back, “he needs someone to stay with him for twenty four hours just to make sure.”

“You never mentioned banging your head that hard,” Brienne snapped at him.

“I forgot I did it, “ Jaime replied instantly, and then added for the medic's benefit, “and it is not because I’m concussed.”

"You passed out from it!"

“Is there anyone at home?” the paramedic asked him.

“Yes," replied Jaime promptly.

“No,” responded Brienne, getting better every day at telling when Jaime was lying, but even as they both spoke at the same time Brienne instantly envisioned Jaime in a sparsely furnished bedsit, alone, just as she would be if this had happened to her. "but he can stay with me."  

"Are you okay with that?" the paramedic asked him.

"Of course I am," Jaime replied as he gingerly tried putting his foot on the floor, "wench, carry me to the squad car would you?"

"No I will not," Brienne told him, scowling.

Tutting, Jaime turned towards the door of the vehicle and was hopping for the exit, when the paramedic blocked his way.

Jaime raised his brows in haughty disbelief at the man.

“Slow down tiger. Hospital first, get your foot x-rayed and properly dressed and then you’ll need a tetanus shot and a course of suitable antibiotics. Only then  will you be discharged from medical care,” the paramedic told him firmly, "but on the plus side we will give both you and your friend a lift to A&E. What have you got to say about that?"

“I'm a lion,” Jaime’s grin showed more teeth than either creature, “Not a tiger, a lion. ”

 

                                                                                                      *               *               *                *

 

“I can’t stay in this hospital any longer Tyrion,” Jaime muttered down the phone at his brother, “just tell me you can get Qyburn to write the script I need for the antibiotics and then I can tell them you’ll have them couriered to Brienne’s address,” Jaime paused, his attention briefly caught by a man sweeping the floor of the waiting room before he snapped, “no.”

Brienne studied Jaime as he used her mobile phone. He had tucked himself into a corner of the hospital waiting room in an effort to secure at least some privacy, but it would appear that Tyrion was determined to get as much information as possible from his elder brother before he gave him what he wanted. It never failed to amaze Brienne how much people regressed when they had to interact with their siblings and Jaime Lannister was no exception. From what she could tell, trying not to observe his conversation with his brother, gone was the suave, cocky and sarcastic individual she spent most of her time with. He appeared to have been replaced with slightly defensive, awkward teenager with a penchant for answering what was probably a question, with another question.

“And why would I need those Tyrion?” He caught Brienne’s eye and frowned slightly. If Brienne hadn’t known him better, she could have sworn he had a flush building underneath his golden skin. Brienne smiled encouragingly at him, it had taken no little effort on her part to persuade Jaime Lannister to call his younger brother over the matter of securing the type of antibiotics he needed.

Jaime frowned back, “No, I don’t need a lecture from you regarding the practical considerations of ….” with that Jaime turned his back on her and with a voice so low she could barely hear him, he said, “your mind needs to be lifted from the gutter little brother. I don’t have to-”

Brienne turned away, aware that Jaime was arguing with his brother about something.

 _It’s going to be a long night,_ Brienne told herself, _waking him up at regular intervals is going to be a nightmare._

_Maybe it would be best to try and get some sleep now._

Brienne put her head back against the waiting room wall and shut her eyes, only to hear Jaime say, “no, I have not shagged her yet. Now are you satisfied?”

She jumped slightly at his unexpected words, a little shocked, a little guilty for listening to his private conversation, although the prospect of Jaime Lannister on the prowl made her shiver slightly.  _I wonder who it could possibly be?_   _  
_

Jaime didn't do casual affairs. There had been talk, whispers, hints of an unnaturally close relationship with his sister, but Brienne had decided early on to treat it as just that, talk. It was none of her business who he dated or was intimate with, just as this was none of her business really. 

But she was only human, and despite damning herself for her curiosity, she couldn't help but wonder who it could be that had caught Jaime Lannister's eye.

_Whoever it is, they don't stand a chance..._

To her surprise, a sharp stab of something almost like envy hit her squarely in the chest.

 _Envious? I don't think so,_ Brienne told herself before a tiny voice admitted wistfully _, well in truth, maybe a little._

 


	4. Well then they...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brienne does her best to deal with a potentially concussed lion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for teasing you with the idea of a short but sweet fic!

Brienne finally shut the door on her tiny flat some hours later as Jaime limped through the door and on into the living area, Brienne following him with his hastily packed overnight bag in her hand.

“I need a shower,” he groaned with feeling, flexing his shoulders.

“You’ll need a plastic bag before you do anything.” she replied, eyeing the roll of his muscles beneath his filthy clothes with a helpless fascination.

“Scared of me getting dirt on your furnishings, wench?” he asked her with a grin as he limped to a stop.

“The landlord’s furnishings Jaime, and you need the bag for you foot,” she told him curtly, “the dressing can’t get wet.”

Brienne ducked into her miniscule kitchen to the sound of his mild complaints about her fussing, and grabbed a plastic bag and a roll of tape before returning to him in the living room.

Her tiny flat seemed to shrink even further now that Jaime stood in the centre of it, hands on his hips.

His green gaze scanned the small space without comment, before looking towards her windows overlooking the roof of the house opposite and showing the merest slither of darkening sky.

“Great view,” he observed, not without irony.

“It’s temporary,” she mumbled as she bent down to look at the dressing on his foot, “in fact now that you mention it, I’ll need to give notice as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

“Well, it's mission accomplished isn't it… back to the Stormlands, time for a new assignment… I suppose.”

_New home, new job well as new colleagues._

Brienne picked at the end of the roll of tape, aware that Jaime was staring at her bowed head.

Taking a deep breath she raised her own head slightly to meet his gaze, but the mercurial Jaime Lannister had already limped off to study the few personal effects she had scattered about her frugal living space.

“Mmmm, interesting looking family” he seemed particularly fascinated by the photographs of herself and her father.

Brienne was only half listening, she was thinking of how she was going to waterproof his foot.

 _I need to get his trousers off._ _  
_

Brienne could already feel a red flush prickling across her neck and up towards her cheeks even before she spoke. “Okay, Jaime, you're going to have to take your trousers off so we can cover your dressing.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she could think of a hundred ways she could have phrased it better.

“I beg your pardon Brienne?” Jaime raised his brows and gave her the hottest, filthiest look she had ever been given, " for a moment there I thought you asked me to strip?" he bit his lip and raised his brows.

"Just your trousers for now," Brienne told him through gritted teeth.

"Just the trousers?" He made it sound as if she had already pinned him to the floor and was wrestling his trousers off of him herself.

“No not just your trousers, but trousers first, so you can get ready for your shower,” Brienne told him firmly, seeing all the signs that suggested Jaime was not about to be sensible about any of this, "we need to keep the dressing on your foot dry."

There, she'd said it but the intense heat she could feel in her face was a clear sign that she must be almost puce by now.

Jaime bit his lip and with a grin of unholy amusement, undid his trousers and shimmied them over his hips, allowing them to drop slowly to the floor in his best imitation of a male stripper.

"Jaime," she warned him, her tone exasperated, if a little strangled. Once the trousers lay in a puddle of fabric on the ground he stepped out of them, having to shake the last of the material over the foot with the bandage on it. He was still decent, his grimy shirt tails covered him to almost mid-thigh, but nonetheless Brienne felt her pulse jump into her throat.

 _This was a mistake,_ was all she could process.

Keeping her face impassive, Brienne crouched down with the plastic bag and tape all in one hand, gently catching hold of his achilles heel in order to put his foot with its dressing into the bag.

“Like what you see?” he murmured, his voice suddenly very close to her head. She ignored the length of lean thigh by her nose as she worked, trying to focus instead on the slightly hair roughened skin of his calf and shin, although Brienne had to admit that the man had perfectly shaped knees.

How can one man be so blessed that even his knees are attractive?

“It’s a foot,” Brienne observed grimly, taking great pleasure in wrapping the thick tape round and round his ankle several times in order to stop any leaks, "A really great foot. Yes I like it. I would have liked it more if you had done what I asked you to do, and hadn't stuck a nail through it."

With a vicious tug she stuck a wide piece of tape across the muscle at the back of his leg to keep the bag in place.

“That’s really going to hurt when it has to come off,” Jaime observed from somewhere above her doubled up position.

“Yes, it probably will,” Brienne replied with great satisfaction, scrambling to her feet and beating a hasty retreat. She made the mistake of glancing back once she had reached the safety of the living room door only to see Jaime watching her go with a wicked knowing grin on his face.  Brienne studiously avoided acknowledging his amusement as she raced to the bathroom to wrestle with her temperamental shower so that everything was ready for her troublesome guest.

Jaime followed after her, poking and picking up her few belongings as he went.

“Don't you need to come in with me?” he limped after her, his foot making a rustling noise as he walked over to the bathroom cabinet and peeked inside.

“Into the shower?” Brienne cleared her voice in an effort to quell the brittle note that seemed to have crept into her normally low tones, “no, I don’t need to join you in the shower Jaime.”

_Was this what Catelyn Stark meant by Jaime engaging with people?_

“But don’t you need to wash my back? Make sure I don’t slip over?” That thrice damned shit eating grin was back on his face, almost to his ears it was so wide, yet still it was overshadowed by the sparkling emerald eyes above it.

 _Stop it now,_ she told herself with more than a hint of desperation, _just stop seeing him as him. Be professional, think colleague, think dead things at the side of the road._

Jaime started to slowly unbutton his shirt, his eyes still on her, “are you quite sure?”

“Yes Jaime, I am quite sure,” Brienne replied, desperately working to keep her face clear of any sign of weakness and trying not to roll her eyes as she told him straight, “You do not need me in the shower… I do not need to join you in the shower... you can do the shower on your own.”

But Jaime wasn't finished with her, he bit his lip before slipping the last button through the last buttonhole and allowing his shirt to fall open and off. The smouldering, heat-seeking missile of a glance he gave her at the finale of his show was the last straw.

Unable to respond by not rolling her eyes, Brienne took a step back and threw a fresh towel at his head, hitting him squarely in the middle of his too handsome face.

"The water will run cold if you don't hurry up." she told him flatly.

Jaime sighed loudly and pulled the towel off his head, before limping into the bathroom and out of Brienne's way so she could leave.

The ensuing silence lasted merely seconds.

“Brienne!” His shout of alarm snatched the air from her chest, "Brienne, here!"

“What?” She was breathless, panicked within seconds, almost tripping over his overnight bag in her efforts to get back into the bathroom and to him.

“A spider!”

“A spider?”

“Yes, a spider! I swear to the seven its legs are almost as long as yours…” The rest of his voice was cut off as she slammed the bathroom door shut in an effort to stop his constant needling chatter.

_A spider!  Ye gods!_

 

                                                                               *               *               *               *

 

Despite the disturbance of having another person in her flat and having to wake him once, twice, then a third time as he slept curled in a singularly awkward position on the couch, Brienne slept, and slept well. It was with the satisfaction and well being that could only come from having spent a decent amount of time in comfortable sleepy bliss that Brienne stretched out in her bed like a dozing cat. She could hear a hammering on her front door even as she snuggled down even further into her covers, which for once felt beautifully warm.

Knock - knock - knock - knock.

Sighing, Brienne stretched in an effort to reach every corner, and in the process of doing so came into contact with a hard muscled torso. Snatching her hand back with a grunt of alarm, Brienne’s eyes flew open to blinding daylight and much more.

Knock - knock - knock - knock!

To the loud chorus of bangs on the door Brienne bounced into an upright position on her bed, mouth falling open at the sight of the glorious golden god next to her. Lying on his side, more than filling half of her precious bed, was Jaime Lannister. A lock of hair falling boyishly across one brow, his face relaxed in sleep, he was like the warrior made flesh in warm gold and satin skin. Brienne squeezed her eyes shut, and pinched herself, hard. She pinched herself again before she dared open them again, telling herself firmly even as she did so, that she hoped it would all prove to be a dream.

The gold and satin deity gave a whistling snore as he lay on his back, arms outstretched.

 _This isn’t real, things like this don’t happen to big Brienne,_ she told herself grimly.

But Jaime was still there when she opened her eyes once more, his chest rhythmically rising and falling as he slept, the innocent expression on his face the exact same one he wore when she told him he should have the couch. He had obediently gathered up his duvet and pillow and had limped off when she had announced the sleeping arrangements the night before. Was that why Jaime had not put up quite as much resistance as she had been expecting to on being told he was to sleep on the lumpy, rather short couch?

He had really looked most uncomfortable when she had checked on him later.

“By the…” Brienne murmured to herself, but then Jaime groaned, muttered and moved slightly, shifting the sheet that lay draped across one lean hip.

 _Ye gods! He’s naked!_ Brienne felt her eyes drift downwards of their own volition until with a hastily stifled squawk, she leapt backwards from the bed, which meant she tangled her foot in corner of the sheets hooked beneath Jaime’s body and fell to the floor with a crashing thump onto her backside.

_Oww!_

Brienne scrambled to her feet.

_It’s just the surprise… this happens to people all the time._

_But never to me!_

_Get dressed, and out of the room_. No! It was her room! _Get Jaime dressed and out of the room!_

All the time she vacillated, she accompanied her indecision with a step in the direction she was thinking of, unfortunately each was in the opposite direction to the other which meant she achieved nothing.

Knock - knock - knock!! Still the person at the front door kept rapping out an insistent tattoo on the wood.

"Wait!" Brienne called out.

“Brienne?" asked a sleepy voice, "what in the seven hells are you doing?”

This time, Brienne released a slightly panicked huff, and jumped an about face towards the low murmur, even as it rumbled across the bed linen.

One open, baleful green eye regarded her from beneath an errant strand of thick golden blond hair.

“I am wondering what to do!” She hissed at him, dropping her voice to little more than a harsh whisper, “You may not have noticed, but you are in my bed! Naked!” She added for good measure.

“Am I?” Jaime turned his head drowsily to take in his surroundings before staring down at his partially covered body on the bed, “By the gods, so I am.”

“Yes. My bed.” Brienne repeated awfully. “My bed!”

“Indeed Brienne, I am not about to disagree.” Jaime winced and put a hand to his head, “How did I get here… I was on the couch...”

“Really?” Brienne asked him, unable to suppress the note of disbelief in her voice, "You have no idea?"

"So you didn't carry me in here then? Well that's a shame," Jaime sighed, then stared beyond her with unseeing eyes for a moment, the thoughtful twist to his lips giving him a brooding air, before he finally said, “of course, the painkillers. I got up in the night to get a drink and take my damn pills and must have taken a wrong turning... whoops.”

“Oh.”

 _Of course it was an accident,_ Brienne acknowledged, brutally squashing any feeling of disappointment that surfaced as she did so _. He would never have deliberately..._

“Sorry,” he added wryly, watching Brienne’s face, his tone almost sincere.

“There is someone at the door… and you are in my bed,” she rolled her eyes in exasperation at having to spell it out to him, “what if it is someone we both know? What if someone sees you?”

“Why would I be embarrassed about being in your bed?” Jaime seemed genuinely puzzled, “ You’re the one with the problem, wench, ” he drawled, “ I can tell because that’s the fourth time you’ve pointed it out to me. I am actually very comfortable in your lovely, warm, _long_ bed …”

As if to emphasise his point, he stretched his arms upwards and outwards, stretching in a mouthwatering display of long limbs and muscle, the sheet that had previously lay across his hip descending even further south leaving the hip bone behind and exposing the paler soft skin between hip and pelvis.

Brienne turned her face quickly to the wall, and looked straight into the mirror hanging there.

The ugliest woman Brienne had ever seen stared right back at her with a battered nose, thick lips, a blotchy complexion and blonde stringy hair standing on end, making her look as if she had been subjected to some kind of shock therapy.

_Maybe she just had._

“You can’t…” she croaked, her mouth suddenly dry.

Almost on cue, a series of rapid knocks landed on the front door, the person waiting there obviously running out of patience.

Growling with frustration Brienne pulled on a pair of tracksuit bottoms and stomped off to the door, the sound of Jaime’s soft laughter following her as she crossed the hallway.

“What?” she pulled open the door, only to have a large white paper bag thrust in her face.

“Medication and dressings for er… a Jaime Lannister,” a voice told her as she wrestled the paper sack down on to the floor and attempted to take the piece of paper she needed to sign at the same time.

“Its a very big bag for a few pills,” Brienne remarked, but only received a very straight look from the delivery man as he handed her a pen to sign with.

"Sign there."

“Um, well thanks.”

Just what had Tyrion Lannister negotiated with Dr Qyburn? Brienne wondered as she signed the sheet attached to clipboard, twice, as instructed. The doctors had told her exactly how much Jaime needed for his course of treatment, and she thought he had told Tyrion. Surely such a big bag was unnecessary.

“Who is it?” Jaime's voice rang through the flat.

“It’s your medication delivery Jaime, but it’s in a very big bag. You did tell Tyrion exactly what the doctor said didn’t you?” she yelled back, frowning when she was certain she heard Jaime’s voice say something like, “shit!”

As she leant on the panels to shut the door, Brienne absently picked at the stapled closure on the sack and opened it up to peer inside. There was several smaller blister packs of what Brienne assumed to be the relevant medication, and then one huge box of 144 ribbed...pink and black, sparkly? What, no, flavoured... Textured……

“Thank you,” Jaime came past in a limping blur, a white sheet wrapped around his hips like the worst kind of toga, and snatched the bag from her hands which he then bore off to the kitchen.

“Hey!” she exclaimed after him before moving to follow him through into the kitchen, only coming to a halt when faced with Jaime standing at the sink, filling a pint glass of water to drink with his tablets, no bag in sight, “I signed for that.”

“Thank you,” Jaime screwed his face up as he put two of the prescribed pills into his mouth and took a slug of water with them, “your concern for my ongoing health is one of your more attractive personality traits.”

Brienne watched him for a moment, mesmerized by the movement of his throat as he swallowed the pint of tap water, before nodding curtly at him.

Jaime put his glass in the sink and then gave her a wicked smirk as he caught sight of her watching him.

 _He is quite simply the most beautiful man I have ever seen,_ she realised. _Stunning.  
_

“Speak to me Brienne. I’m not a mind reader.”

Brienne took a deep fortifying breath.

“Jaime… is there anyone we need to contact this morning?” she asked him brightly enough, although she was quietly dying inside.

“I spoke to Tyrion last night when I ordered the drugs,” he told her.

“So there is no one else? Someone you were planning to see, a _special_ someone...”

“No,certainly not,” he laughed briefly but then sobered and frowned, “why? Are you trying to get rid of me wench?”

“The condoms,” Brienne blurted out.

“What condoms?”

“In the bag,” she avoided gritting her teeth and gave him a supportive smile instead, “the big box of one hundred and forty four condoms.”

 _One hundred and forty four sizzling sessions with Jaime Lannister,_ Brienne’s mouth went quite dry, even as she tried not to think about it.

“Oh,” Jaime grinned at her shamelessly, showing a singular lack of embarrassment. “ the one that arrived with the medication?"

Brienne managed a nod and only then whilst staring at the floor.

"Tyrion's idea of a joke I'm afraid..." Jaime told her.

_A joke?_

A joke.

_A joke because he's staying with me, now that I understand._

“Oh, of course…,” Brienne gave him what she hoped was a knowing, worldly look so she didn't have to say any more but she felt cut to the quick. A pain that would seem consistent with being sliced through the gut and into the spine hit her in the stomach, "a joke."

It was obvious now that it was Tyrion being funny, a joke between two brothers about Jaime staying overnight with his big ugly cow of a work colleague.

_Ha, ha, bloody ha._

_Serves me right for opening the bag,_ she thought bitterly _, nothing changes. It's just hidden better._

She felt her expression freeze as she tried to process the familiar hurt of, yet again, being the butt of someone else's joke.

“Oh,” Jaime gave her quizzical look as if he sensed something about her had shifted, changed somehow, "why 'of course'?”

Brienne shrugged self consciously before she muttered softly, “did you know there are only seven types of joke? Misunderstanding, misfortune or cruelty, wordplay, stupidity, surreal, exaggeration and parody. Which category do you think your brother was aiming for?”

_I've been the subject of all seven, what's one more joke?_

Jaime limped slowly over to where she stood in the doorway and stood before her," and what kind of joke have you judged it to be? Misfortune or cruelty? Parody? It's neither of those, it's not even misunderstanding...it is, quite simply, stupidity. Stupidity on my brother's part."

 Brienne tried to avoid his emerald green gaze by looking at the floor, but Jaime simply leaned forward, trapping her between himself and the doorjamb.

“Tyrion meant them for us,” he said softly, “you know, just in case an opportunity should arise. He gets very impatient with me, he feels I'm a little slow to act in some areas of my life, so this is his best effort to get me to do something. A box of 144 of the things does suggest a rather exaggerated faith in me, if nothing else. 

“For...?” Brienne frowned briefly, still floundering at two sentences back in their conversation, “just in case …?”

The realization of what Jaime had just said to her swept over her at the same speed as the prickling heat that indicated she had just flushed bright red.

One hundred and forty four chances to.....

Brienne felt quite faint as she thought about what those one hundred and forty four opportunities might entail.

_Oh my goodness._

“For a clever man he can be disconcertingly direct about certain matters,”Jaime told her, a note of annoyed apology in his voice, “I was sort of hoping you hadn’t seen them. I did try and tell him, but Tyrion does so like to be clever.”

“Oh,” Brienne swallowed what felt like a massive lump in her throat, “oh.”

“See this is what I was trying to avoid,” Jaime’s green eyes tracked over her face as he appeared to study her bright red cheeks, “this is awkward.”

“No, don’t be silly,” Brienne lied boldly, “it’s fine. Is there anything you’d like now you are awake properly?”

Jaime’s eyebrows climbed over his remarkably fine emerald green eyes.

“To eat, Jaime,” Brienne qualified, adding quickly to avoid any confusion, “like a cheese sandwich?”


	5. Finally...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyrion calls Brienne in an effort to stop the abusive calls to his office and Jaime makes a move.

Even as she hurried down the road, her phone had kept buzzing away in her pocket until she had to pull it out and check it.

The name on the screen was not one she was ever expecting to see there.

_Tyrion… Tyrion Lannister? What the… Why… How would one of the leading lights of the Crown Prosecution Service know her mobile number?_

_One answer came to mind and it had a name, Jaime Lannister._

“H..h..hello?” Brienne said cautiously into her mobile as she kept walking, a shopping bag tucked under her arm making it very awkward to walk and talk.  

The fact that Jaime had called his brother using her phone was clearly the reason she was talking to Jaime’s younger sibling now. Jaime must also have stored Tyrion’s number on her phone in case of an emergency, or maybe he thought to use it at a later date for some nefarious if unspecified  purpose. She was beginning to think it was almost definitely the latter after that incident this morning.

“I think I owe you an apology.” The voice that spoke to her was deep, cultured with an undercurrent of wry humour that made Brienne instantly feel at a disadvantage.

“Er… you do?” she was all she could think of to say.

“This _is_ Brienne Tarth?”

She was still trying to navigate her way to the corner shop as she spoke and Brienne narrowly missed a lamp post as she tried to get a better grip on her phone .

“Yes it is,” Brienne replied, pausing at the side of the road to let a van trundle past before stepping off the kerb and into the road.

Blalalaaaaaaaarrrr! The noise was deafening as a scooter swerved to avoid her.

“Oy mate, trying to get yourself killed?” Shouted the rider on the vehicle as he roared past her, obviously taking her for a man. Brienne stood in the middle of the road, startled.

“Brienne? Brienne!” squawked her phone as she fumbled desperately to get it back under her chin as she dashed across the road onto the safety of the pavement opposite. “Are you still there?”

“I’m here,” she replied breathlessly.

“For the love of the seven please don’t die while I’m talking to you on the phone,” Tyrion told her, “Please tell me you are at least clear of the road. I'm in enough trouble as it is."

“I’m perfectly safe now,” she assured him, stepping back to lean against a wall as she pressed the mobile to her ear so she could hear him clearly.

“My brother has just called me at my office and shouted several very rude words down the phone at me.”

Jaime had obviously found his emergency mobile packed in the top of his overnight bag.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Brienne apologised without thought.

 _What is Jaime thinking of?_ She asked herself. Leave him alone for five minutes and he’s creating trouble for himself.

“No, I need to apologise. I am the idiot who sent him a box of condoms. I’ve been told to tell you it was not his idea, he is apparently far classier than that.”

Brienne smiled to herself at what she had come to think of as a typical Jaime Lannister move. The man had no qualms about using someone else as a mouthpiece.

“Its fine,” she told him.

“I have been told in no uncertain terms that your reaction was anything but fine.”

“It hit a nerve,” Brienne admitted to him, “that’s all.”

“Brienne… can I call you Brienne?”

“Yes, yes of course you can,” Brienne found herself assuring him, whilst marvelling and just how persuasive Tyrion Lannister managed to be even through the medium of a mobile phone.

“He really likes you,” he told her.

“And I like him too, “she responded with a small smile, “it’s been wonderful working with him.”

There was such a long pause that Brienne wondered if Tyrion had been cut off.

“No Brienne, he really likes you,” Tyrion told her firmly.

“Oh,” Brienne didn’t know what to say. As she looked up from the floor she caught sight of herself in a car window, her hair still ruffled the wrong way from Jaime’s farewell pat on the back and cringed slightly, “He’s probably just grateful he got to leave the hospital last night. I was nothing more than a convenient adult really.”

“Well his housekeeper would have stayed if he’d asked…”

“Housekeeper?” Brienne’s image of Jaime’s alternative to her flat being a cramped and lonely bedsit faltered slightly.

“Or his chauffeur come handyman is always happy to stay late if its needed…”

“Chauffeur come...?” Brienne swallowed and blinked as the vision of the Jaime’s dingy bedsit vanished forever.

“Found the pavement then you stupid arse tosser!” came an abusive shout as the scooter from her near-miss shot past in the opposite direction.

 _Same lame idiot as previously,_ Brienne thought to herself as she watched him swerve off down the narrow road in a cloud of blue fumes.

“ Brienne, where in the seven hells are you?” Tyrion finally asked her, “where is your place? Do I need to send a car?"

Do they never walk anywhere these precious Lannisters?

“I’m on the way to the corner shop at the end of my road in Fleabottom. Your brother eats an awful lot of food,” she told him, “I’m beginning to think he’s got hollow legs or some kind of digestive disorder.”

“Brienne,” Tyrion was starting to laugh even as he spoke, “go get your supplies and then go back and tell him I’ve called you. I’ve had to promise my PA’s they can block his calls until you’ve done that, otherwise they are threatening to quit en mass. And tell him to call me when you are done.”

Brienne mumbled her agreement and then disconnected the call, dropping the phone in her pocket as she did so.

It went off again almost immediately.

_Caller Id unknown this time._

“Brienne, have you not got that food yet?” An all too familiar voice grumbled in her ear.

“For the love of the seven, I’m going as fast as I can Jaime….”

 

*               *               *                *

 

“Can you not simply pick one thing to watch and stick with it?” Brienne asked him, peering over her reading glasses at Jaime as he surfed through channel after channel, until almost settling on a programme about medieval armour for five minutes before he picked up the remote control and was off channel hopping again.

“There is nothing interesting on your TV,” he grumbled, wincing slightly as he shifted his position and jogged his foot which was propped up on the coffee table on top of a cushion, “why haven’t you got cable?”

“Because this place is only a rental and I’m normally never here.”

“I’ve got cable.”

“I know, you have told me about five times Jaime. And I will say to you what I have said the last four times, if you feel well enough to go home then feel free to go. I can call ahead so your housekeeper and chauffeur know that you are returning to them, and that they need to stock up on food.”

He simply scowled at this, burying himself deeper into the cushions on her sofa and pulling the blanket up so that he covered everything but his eyes, leaving Brienne the subject of a glorious glowering green gaze that promised all manner of bad and peculiar ends for those that did not cooperate with him.

He looked delicious.

“I’m bored.”

“Why don’t you go and have a shower, I’ll tape your foot up for you if you like,” Brienne offered, only to have a face pulled at her.

“I don’t need you to tape up my foot, I can do it myself,” Jaime replied.

Brienne rolled her eyes, and smoothed the page she was reading in her book.

“Then do it, Jaime. You’ll feel better after a shower,” Brienne looked back down at her book and started reading again, “fresher.”

“Come and scrub my back for me,” Jaime asked her with a perfectly serious face.

“Very funny Jaime,” Brienne folded her lips primly together as she turned the page, “although I think you might owe me a nice back rub after you made me run down to the corner shop not once, but twice on a crazy errand…. fresh garlic in Fleabottom? Nice idea, shame it’s not a reality.”

“It’s a staple,” he told her, “I can’t believe they don’t sell it. How much effort is it to stock a few bulbs of fresh garlic, it lasts for ever.”

“It’s Fleabottom Jaime, not the swanky old town quarter in Lannisport. If you went home, I bet your housekeeper gets it specially couriered in from Dorne for the epicurean  _Mr Lannister_.”

Jaime snorted but did not rise to the bait, instead he went back to flicking through the channels.

“When do you want your back scrubbed then wench?” the green eyes had acquired a glittering quality to them that belied the laugh in his voice and rendered Brienne a little pink and rather breathless when she caught his eye.

_He doesn’t mean it, he’s bored that’s all._

“I don’t know ,” she replied, humouring him, “I thought I might go for a run first. Shake out the fidgets, I’d ask you to come but...” Brienne nodded at Jaime’s foot.

“Cheap shot Brienne,” he told her, but his harsh words were softened by the sudden grin on his face, "very cheap shot."

Jaime’s continued presence had proved a major distraction for the whole of the day. In an effort to shut him out, Brienne was as good as her word and went for a run, a long one, but even an hour long run wasn’t enough to clear Jaime from her mind. He was asleep when she got back from her marathon, in her bed but that was okay. She crept about the bedroom, collecting her sweaty running kit bottoms and socks ready for the washing machine. Brienne moved cautiously about the room, one eye on the tousled blond head on her pillows, his broad shoulders and clearly defined muscles spread out over far more than half the mattress.

Where they were both going to sleep that night was a battle yet to be fought.

I could always simply put a line of pillows down the middle of the bed I suppose, she thought to herself wryly. Or maybe it's my turn to take the couch tonight.

Brienne left  the room, eyes on Jaime, mind focused only on getting to the shower without waking the sleeping beauty in the bed. Brienne went to the kitchen, drank a pint of water and then she turned to enter the bathroom only to almost leap out of her skin at the sight of the Jaime himself sat on the side of the bath beside her, yawning.

“How long have you been there?” She gasped, clutching at her chest where her heart was drumming at a rate that could hardly be good for her, her nipples suddenly hard behind her hands as her gaze was drawn to his naked chest and shoulders.

“Long enough,” He paused briefly, a sleepy grin lighting up his face, “I’m here to scrub your back.”

_A joke?  Of course it was..._

“You can't get your foot wet,” Brienne said in a slightly awkward voice before pulling at her sweaty vest top, her hands trembling slightly as she plucked it away from her skin without removing it, “but you need to make sure your foot is taped up and waterproofed Jaime. I’m… going to have to clean up right now. I’m revoltingly sweaty.Go back to bed.”

Jaime yawned again and rubbed a hand through his already tousled hair, "I already did my foot while you were out," he pointed out, the offending limb already inexpertly wrapped in tape and a bag.

"Nice job Jaime," she told him, unable to resist a smile while responding to his boyish glee regarding dressing his foot without her.

_I don't want to think too hard about why he's gone to all this effort._

Even contemplating just why Jaime was sat there was enough to make her head spin as she went to turn on the water.

Brienne slammed on the shower and stuck her sweaty head beneath the lukewarm fall of water in an effort to dilute the all pervasive presence of Jaime Lannister, the jets hammering down on her hair and shoulders as she attempted to drive out the temptation posed by him.

“Brienne?” he whispered softly in her ear, "you do realise you've left your top on." He stepped forward, gently crowding her into the shower.

"I was about to take it -" she half laughed, half croaked, suddenly all too aware of him sharing the intimate space beneath the spray. Jaime's left hand gathered the vest top up and pulled it from her body, throwing it onto the bathroom floor as he then went on to start rubbing soap over her back in firm sweeps

"-off," she gulped.

Jaime shed the last of his clothing before stepping further into the shower, moving closer to Brienne as he did so 

“Don't slip...” Brienne warned him even as she arched under his hand, unable to contain a small gasp of surprise. His innate sense of balance seemed as sure as ever as a now naked Jaime lathered her back, her shoulders, even her fingertips, as  his hands then crossed her stomach and moved across her breasts. Jaime gave a deep, almost ragged sigh, his breath on her shoulder then her ear as his left hand continued its leisurely path, rubbing her nipples and then down between her legs to soap the blonde curls there before sweeping up across her hips and down to the tops of her thighs. Brienne felt her knees start to wobble as arousal bit into her but on her tormentor went, both of them silent apart from the hissing of the shower jets and the glide of the soap as he traced every bit of her skin.

A finger traced the inside of her thighs, her legs already apart in an effort to keep her balance on the wet floor. Slowly, slowly his index finger moved up towards her engorged clit as it lay fat against the wet fabric of her briefs. Jaime‘s finger started to rub her sensitive flesh, gently, persistently arousing.

Brienne could feel herself flushing bright red, her breath non-existent as she had to inhale suddenly to get another fix of precious oxygen. Jaime nuzzled her neck, and then moved to fill his hands with her small breasts, her nipples between his fingers.

“Oh,” The bolt of desire that ran directly from the tips of her breasts to the centre of her, made her groan out loud. His head moved down and his mouth latched onto one ear, then the other, sucking and nipping.

Jaime moved whisper close to her, his erect cock thrusting between her soapy thighs, rubbing her through her water soaked briefs as an arm gathered her back against a rock hard stomach, holding her immobile as he slid his body against her and eased Brienne's oh-so-sensible briefs down her legs to her knees. Brienne could feel the plump end of his cock roll against her soapy buttocks before it pushed through into the crease in between. Mindlessly she tried to angle her hips, to somehow capture his thickness, but he was too clever for her. Angling his thrust upwards, he moved his cock across her soapy backside brutally squashing it between them as he pushed her against the tiled wall. He slipped two fingers between her legs and found her sensitive spot as he rubbed her.

"Jaime..." Brienne couldn't help but come with a low keening sound, gasping breathlessly as she felt him whisper into her ear, his voice laced with a heartfelt groan.

“Gods, Brienne. Gods....”

With that he shot his load over her soapy back and buttocks as he climaxed.

They stood there entwined for a few moments in silence, breathing heavily as if they had both been running for an hour or more, flat out, the water pouring down their bodies in a steamy cascade. Jaime was the first to move, gently washing her once more from top to toe, removing her briefs completely from her legs before he left as silently as he had arrived.

“By the mother”, Brienne slumped dazed, and sated, against the wall of the shower. She felt confused, conflicted. The urge to smile had deserted her, but now a new sensation had come to take its place, the urge to follow Jaime back into her bedroom and lick him senseless.

Brienne towelled herself dry, more to give herself time to think than to rub her skin clear of moisture, but eventually she stepped hesitantly into her bedroom unable to delay coming face to face with Jaime after their steamy interlude.

The bedroom was empty.

Puzzled, Brienne moved silently through the room, and then on into the lounge where she found Jaime curled into the sofa fast asleep. One of her pillows under his head and the spare duvet wrapped loosely round his body.

_Did he not want to continue what they had started in the shower?_

_Was this his way of saying he’d had second thoughts?_

Brienne backed slowly out of the room, confused and a little awkward as she returned to her own bed. She pulled the duvet over her head and tried to think about what she might have done to put Jaime off of her so quickly.

_Was it something I said?_

_Was I too keen?_

_Not keen enough?_

_Ugly?_

_But I’ve always been ugly..._

_Was it the lack of personal grooming?_ It wasn’t like she had been expecting the most gorgeous man of her acquaintance to be joining her in the shower and running his fingers through her hair… all of it, both on her head and down…..

Her face burning, Brienne rolled over in the bed, wrapping herself up in the duvet rather like a sausage in a roll.

_He’s not interested._

“Maybe it’s for the best,” she mumbled to herself, “if he’s really not interested...”

“Who’s not interested?” Jaime asked from beside her, his voice a whisper in her ear.

"Jaime!"

His unexpected presence made her physically jump, but then Brienne struggled to face him, his weight on the cover making it almost impossible for her to turn round.

“Um… you?” she replied, a note of uncertainty in her voice, “you went back to sleep on the sofa.”

“I went to get the plastic bag off my foot, Brienne. I don’t want to make love to you with my foot stuck in a fucking bag!”

The affronted expression on his handsome face was a sight to behold.

“Don’t tell me, you’re far classier than that,” Brienne raised her brows, unable to resist teasing him.

“Far far classier,” he grinned, pulling at the duvet so that it unrolled slightly turning Brienne over in the bed, her pale shoulders going from the top to the bottom and the cover shifting down slightly so that one naked breast was exposed. Like a street magician, Jaime produced one condom from between the fingers of his left hand, then two, then three before placing them carefully on the cabinet next to her bed.

All Brienne could do was stare at him, speechless.

“I fell asleep while I was waiting for you to dry off,” Jaime said softly, staring at the dusky pink nipple set on her pale breast as if mesmerized.

He looked at her briefly, as if daring her to object as he lowered his head and lapped at the nipple with several flicks of his tongue. Brienne couldn’t move, the combination of Jaime’s weight and the tight cover immobilising her.

“I…oh my...oh,” the words stuck in her throat as desire burnt its way up from inside, “I can’t move.”

“Do you need to?” Jaime’s face was in hers, bright green eyes almost translucent with a fierce passion that Brienne could scarcely believe was meant for her, “I mean…” and then he did it again, put his tongue out and swirled it round the pink tip of her nipple making her arch off the bed. Or at least try to. He did it again, and again, and then bit the nipple gently with his beautiful teeth, holding it briefly before pulling it until Brienne squawked.

“Jaime!”

With an evil grin, he released her and reared up, naked as the day he was born, giving the end of the duvet a tug sufficient to send Brienne sprawling across her double bed and the duvet onto the floor.

“Jaime!”

“Brienne!,” he taunted her as he pounced, covering her with his warm lean body as she flushed bright red and went to grab the discarded bedsheets in an effort to cover herself, “don’t you dare!” Jaime studied her boldly from head to toe, “I want to look at you.”

“There is nothing to see,” Brienne huffed at him, resisting the urge to put her hands over her chest.

_Big manly hands hovering over tiny almost non existent teats, who was Jaime kidding when he acted as if seeing her like this excited him?_

“What do you mean there is nothing to see,” replied Jaime as he set to studying her breasts again, before lowering his head and starting to suck and lick at the nipple that had previously been covered.

Brienne gave in less than graciously, muttering as she let her head fall back and set to threading her fingers into the golden head of hair currently hovering over her breasts as Jaime sucked and nibbled at her flesh. She was so sensitive to his touch that it was not long before she started to writhe under him, desperate for more..

Or simply just desperate, she thought to herself.

“Stop,” she croaked, “please.”

He stopped immediately, lifting his head to stare at her, green eyes predatory.

Brienne took a deep breath as she returned his look then studying Jaime from head to foot.

He really was gorgeous everywhere.

And she knew he tasted as good as he looked. Brienne leaned in to kiss his mouth, then the tendons of his neck, then his collarbone which was as about as far as she could reach until she entwined her legs and arms in his, and then using all her strength, flipped him.

Jaime landed on his back with a soft “Ooof,”, blond hair in his eyes, a knowing smile on his face.

 _Go on then Brienne,_ his face seemed to say _, do me._

Brienne frowned at him and then leaned forward to run the tip of her tongue over Jaime’s skin as she worked downwards, across his smooth chest, taking his nipples, first the right then the left, in her mouth. Jaime’s groan seemed to come from way deep inside him as she smiled against his flesh and then moved even farther south onto his muscular flat stomach, his hips, then his cock. Brienne slid on down over his knees with her own small groan of appreciation.

_Jaime fucking Lannister._

He was warm and solid as she took him into her mouth, running her tongue around the head, paying special attention to the slit and the sensitive edge around the velvety rounded tip. Brienne was aware of a desperate hunger she had never experienced before. She was filled with the sudden urge to consume him, all of him.

Brienne had never felt quite like it.

He gasped and murmured encouragement, groaning as she worked her tongue along and around his cock, sucking and licking.

Brienne felt his hands resting on her head as Jaime started to rock gently, thrusting into her mouth with a vague attempt at a rhythm, although it would stutter to a halt occasionally as she continued  with her tongue, aware that his movements were becoming increasingly more erratic and desperate. Encouraged by his growing lack of coordination, Brienne worked her tongue even harder, almost able to taste the trickle of his seed into her mouth as she manipulated him towards an orgasm.

“Brienne…,” she was pulled up and away before gaining her prize, her groan of protest smothered by his lips on her face and neck. He continued to kiss her, only stopping to encompass the modest curve of her breasts in his hands.

“Jaime,” she gulped as he seized her sensitive nipples, rolling and pulling the buds just hard enough to make her go into a spasm of arousal, “ye gods, gods,  Jaime what are you…”

Jaime smiled against her neck as she groaned his name over and over.

“It feels so good to have you at my mercy,” he whispered into her hair.

“I’m not at your...” she started to protest.

“No?”

Brienne found herself being hauled up the bed, tumbling over in disarray on the covers as Jaime deposited her on her back, leaving her legs splayed open, her head half covered with pillows .

“Jaime… what on earth are you doing now?” she spluttered as he grasped her buttocks and lifted her to his mouth, delving his tongue deep into the folds around of her clit. With a choked, "ye gods," Brienne surrendered totally to him, but the next thing she knew he had flipped her onto her stomach, leaving her bottom in the air, and was pushing her legs wide.

Brienne felt weak and boneless as he moved over her body and whispered in her ear, his lips on her cheek, “Mine…” as his cock bumped gently at her entrance before sliding sweetly inside, she was so wet.

"Jaime," she gasped into the pillows as he filled her completely, the fit so tight she felt Jaime's hesitation as he fully sheathed himself.

"Brienne?"

"I'm fine," Brienne croaked, "I'm fine."

"I'm not," Jaime whispered back, "you're so tight you’re killing me. I’m having to recite the kings of Westeros so I don’t embarrass myself."

_That he can joke even now...._

“Jaime?” Her voice was hoarse, her thoughts unchecked, spilling out as words, “Can we really do this and still be....?”

“Gods Brienne,” Jaime responded, his voice barely above a delicious whisper. “Your timing is impeccable. Don’t worry about that now... worry instead about Baelor, Daeron the first….”

It was the urge to laugh that undid her.

“Jaime,” It was all it took as Brienne fell apart in his arms, rocking with the onslaught of his thrusts as she opened her mouth to gasp a laugh but groaning as her orgasm hit instead. Jaime kissed her neck and shoulders as she bucked beneath him, tasting every inch of her skin that he could reach, and it was then that the second tickle of arousal hit as a wave of sensation.

“Jaime…,” Brienne couldn’t seem to stop saying his name., “Jaime..."

"Aegon the fourth..."

"Jaime, no!"

“That’s it Brienne, come again for me, tell me what you want…” Brienne could almost hear the triumph in his voice.

_You, always you._

She couldn’t resist him. The weight of his body as he rocked into her, the brush of his skin against hers had driven her beyond wild. Jaime propped himself up on his right hand, using his left to trace his way from her hip down into the crease of her inner thigh , brushing through the blonde curls there before he slid two fingers across her clit.

“I can’t… Jaime...” Brienne had never felt anything quite like it in her life as she felt his breath hot against the back of her neck, interspersed with kisses as he continued to gently thrust inside her.

She caught her breath once, twice and then released a low moan as the flutters of all-consuming pleasure lapped at her again as he continued to fuck her. Her body bucked against him as it started to react on instinct to find yet another peak, her movements joining with Jaime’s to make the bed rattle and creak. A white hot knot of sensation exploded at the base of her spine, flooding her body with the most exquisite orgasm. Brienne groaned for all she was worth as wave after wave of excruciating delight rolled over her, the glory of it still sparking off climax after climax as she floated out of control, vulnerable as she buried her face deep in the pillows in an effort to stem the embarrassment of noise tumbling from her mouth.

Jaime pushed her down, still writhing and gasping, enfolding her beneath him as he continued to move inside her, thrusting himself into her one last time, filling her deep as he ejaculated long and hard, his own cry ringing round the room like a call to arms.

He collapsed then, to lay on top of her, in her, as she felt rather than heard him mutter, “It’s always that bastard Aerys the second's fault…”

 

*               *               *                *

Brienne stared straight ahead for a count of twenty before turning to look at the police officer as he stood patiently waiting for her to exit the vehicle.

He stared back, his expression stern, his jaw slightly clenched.

Brienne could clearly see her own reflection in his sunglasses.

_I look terrified, she thought to herself, as well as furious, and very confused._

Brienne hadn’t asked to be transferred to back to the Stormlands Police Department so soon. It had been suggested to her as an important opportunity to further her career by going back to her old force in a role that would build on the excellent work she had done at KLPD.

_‘You need to build on your considerable achievements in Kings Landing,’ Captain Stark had told her, ‘I’ve already had a number of requests for support from departments that have heard of the success we had in rooting out Bolton and the associated corruption. They need someone who is able to hit the ground running and make a difference. Do yourself a favour, go work in the new unit for a few months and then come back to the Stormlands proper when you’re over your affair, when the ridiculous business with Jaime Lannister has finally run its course.’_

_How dare she!_

“Madam?”

Brienne watched, the officer pulled the glasses from his face, and folded the arms neatly down before slipping the sunglasses into his shirt pocket. She felt her jaw sag slightly as she realised exactly who it was she was staring at.

_Jaime Lannister, what are you doing here?_

“You need to get out of the car,” It was not a request.

Slowly Brienne unclipped her seatbelt and then turned to open her car door, pulling herself to her feet as she swung the door open and stepped out. Instantly Brienne found herself staring almost directly into his stunning green eyes, the edges slightly crinkled as he was squinting into the sun.

Brienne swallowed, desperate to keep a composed expression on her face as long as possible, “Officer,” she acknowledged coolly, “you do know that we are within the boundaries of the Stormlands Police Department here?”

As the man before her tilted his head ever so slightly back to look at her properly, Brienne was almost convinced she heard him breathe the words, “I fucking know that all too well,” under his breath as he studied what felt like every last unsightly freckle on her face, his expression implacable.

“Are you aware that you appear to have lost your rear licence plate?,” he asked her.

“You must be joking,”  she replied through gritted teeth, “I checked the damn thing before I set out along with my insurance, my stop lights, tyres and every other thing I could possibly think of that might fail, break or wear out.”

The smallest smile come grimace tightened his lean cheeks as he shook his head.

“No, your rear licence plate is definitely missing, which is an offence....”

“I know it’s a bloody offence,” Brienne snapped at him, her emotions a mess as she argued about a stupid licence plate with the man she was convinced she had loved and lost forever after she had refused to follow him back to the Westerlands the week before.” She stood up straight, taking comfort in her inch advantage, “ I’m telling you I checked the damn car! I’ve been sabotaged.”

The officer pulled a yellow pad from his jacket as Brienne stole a furtive glance at the name badge on his black stab vest.

 _Police Sergeant Lannister SPD_ , Brienne read.

_SPD?_

_Stormlands Police Department!_

"This doesn't look good," Lannister told her as he wrote with painful care on the yellow form with his left hand, "as this is the second time you have been pulled over on a minor misdemeanor, I need to warn you that such offences are logged and they are stored electronically. Three offences and you will be asked to attend an extended training session with the SPD Highway Patrol."

"Oh," Brienne replied, trying not to stare too much at the tiny slither of tongue that appeared at the corner of Jaime’s mouth as he made clumsy notes with his left hand on the yellow form.

"Have you missed me?" He asked her softly, pausing for a moment to glance back at his squad car.

"Yes," she looked at her car before glancing back into the mesmerizing gaze of the man stood next to her, "terribly."

“Good,” he grinned back at her, “not long now, just hang on in there.” Then more loudly he added, “ You can get back in the car now, Madam..”

Brienne opened the door and dropped back into the driver’s seat, slamming the car door behind her as she did so.

Officer Lannister handed her the yellow sheet of paper before putting his sunglasses back on and turning towards his car.

“You have a nice day now.”

Brienne watched him walk slowly back to the squad car where another driver sat at the wheel.

Feeling dizzy with reaction she looked down at the childish scrawl across the bottom of the yellow piece of paper that said simply...

 **MAKE SURE YOU CALL ME LATER** followed by a mobile number and then **JAIME XXXXXXX**

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this and thank you so much for all the reading, kudosing and commenting you do.  
> Thank you...


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